


Habits

by Bodldops



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen, Yuletide 2013
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2013-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-05 06:22:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1090662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bodldops/pseuds/Bodldops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a scene-filler for the end of FZZT, where Fitz tries to figure out exactly what to do with himself while waiting for confirmation that his best friend is okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Habits

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Greens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greens/gifts).



He is… so upset. There were no words for how terribly upset he is, and the wait just _isn’t_ helping any. There just isn't any place for him to settle, now that the science is settled and it is time for the field agents to clean up the resulting mess. He tries listening as Coulson talking to the Moroccan office. It is clearly a stressful conversation for Coulson, trying to both explain why there are two agents floating in the Atlantic Ocean just off the coast and to organize a search and rescue all at the same time. He manages to stay for a while, but is sent away before too long... mostly for interrupting. For the third time. Sure, he can see Coulson’s point, but he just wants someone to tell him that Jemma is okay. That both of them are okay That they are alive, not electrocuted and floating above the water instead of in it.

He then tries to play it casual, wait in the common room for the plane to touch down, but Skye finds him there, and she wants to _talk_. He gets the feeling that this is hard for her, and while he definitely appreciates that she’s that worked up about the whole thing, he’s… feeling selfish, at the moment. Jemma is _his_ friend, before anyone else. When he knows Jemma is okay, then he can worry about reassuring Skye. He could even maybe use this to his advantage, finally get closer to the _amazingly_ pretty hacker.

But not until he knows. 

He makes some kind of excuse, then retreats. He finds himself in the laboratory, but that doesn’t last long. He should tidy up - Jemma will be furious if... when she gets back. He should put away the equipment, write up their findings, send the files off to the appropriate laboratories for further study. However... The rats are still there, most floating in their cages, the one survivor fluffing the shavings in his cage into a nest, not at all caring about how its failure to immediately look well may have killed his best friend.

He leaves before he can hurt Jemma’s last rat. She’d never forgive him. 

He thinks briefly about heading forward, maybe watch the landing in person from the pilot’s cabin, but… well. If Coulson can’t put up with him right now, he’s not sure he wants to go trying May’s patience. May is... scary. 

So he finds himself in the living quarters, sitting on his bunk, fiddling uselessly with the bead gecko that has been hanging from his personal bag for the last decade, the thick plastic beads still as bright and cheery as the day it was given to him - even if the cord has gotten a little worn. 

“Landing in fifteen minutes. Make sure everything is stowed properly.” May’s preternaturally calm voice brings his head up, and abruptly, he thinks of something he can do. He just needs to do it fast, or it just won’t be done in time.

Some part of him, some small superstitious part that he’d never admit to, needs him to have this done in time. If he doesn’t…. then. Well. He’d feel… responsible. More responsible.  
They… she, just needs to be well.

Leo Fitz, rocket scientist and SHIELD agent extraordinaire, gets to work.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Leo trails in Coulson’s wake, passing unfamiliar agents speaking in unfamiliar languages. He isn’t really supposed to be here. He is a scientist – he should be in the lab, or researching, finding a way to improve the antiserum or finding a better containment unit for the Chitauri helmet or just… not following his commanding officer into a SHIELD hospital he had no business being in, looking for any sign of his best friend. He wants to confirm the room number they were given again, or ask about what Coulson talked to the hospital director about, or ask… about any number of things, really. Coulson’s expression, however, is as blank as he’s ever seen, and somehow he gets the impression that asking anything right now might get him sent back to the plane.

And he needs to see Jemma.

He hears what he’s looking for before anything else – Ward’s American cowboy drawl coming from a room ahead, carrying through the open doorway. Before Coulson can stop him, Leo has hurried forward, the moment between hearing the voice and bursting into the hospital room something of an incomprehensible blur. There is Ward – shirtless, with monitors strapped to him every which way, looking calm and collected like it was an everyday thing to jump out of a plane at forty-two thousand feet to rescue another agent. There’s a second bed, and more monitoring equipment. In the bed, curled up as peacefully as you’d like…

“ _Jemma._ ” She’s there, she’s breathing, she isn’t ghastly-pale and sweating like she had been, she looks… she looks healthy. Alive. He manages to find a chair before his knees come completely unhinged. Ward and Coulson are talking, and he really does hope they’re talking to each other, because he’s not listening. 

He scoots the chair closer to the bed, ignoring how the metal legs scrape along the tile floor. He shouldn’t wake her. She’s probably exhausted. He’d be exhausted, he’s sure. He _is_ exhausted, come to think of it, the stress of the last day weighing heavily on him now that it is over. But he wants to hear her voice, have her say… well. Anything, something that isn’t that broken ‘I’m sorry’ (an apology he does not accept, no, not ever) that almost became the last he ever heard from her. He’s still debating the relative pros and cons of waking her up when she takes the decision out of his hands, blinking blearily in the overhead fluorescent light. 

“Leo?” She murmurs, shifting, sounding drowsy and confused and it is the best sound ever. Her voice makes it real – she survived, despite everything she survived, and it’s going to be okay now.

“I made you a sandwich.” He blurts, suddenly remembering that there are two other people in the room that will probably find that odd, and feeling self-conscious in response, and it’s silly, it really is silly, but he thought… maybe… He digs the package out of his pack, the slightly squishy parchment-wrapped meal surprisingly fiddly in nervous hands.

“Ham and cheddar on rye?” She asks blearily. She doesn’t open the package, which he supposes is fair, but her fingers make the paper crinkle where she teases at the corners. He takes a deep breath, releasing some of the nervous energy he’s been plagued with since Ward disappeared off of the plane’s ramp. 

“With spicy mustard.” He agrees, grinning shakily. 

“Oh _Fitz._ ”


End file.
